Stop the madness of Hindu weddings

Written By: Bridezilla
My fondest memory of Hindu weddings while growing up was standing in a long queue of people who smelled of mothballed saris and suits.
We would wait to shower the bridal couple with marigolds and coloured confetti, the punched-out-of-paper kind that was a mess to clean up.
The smell of biryani and dhall with brinjals cooking outside the venue wafted invitingly to expectant guests.
People would eat on trestle tables, waiting to devour the well-buttered soji in the same plate as the main meal to give it that special wedding taste.
Uncles wielding large dishes, with saucers as serving utensils, would ration the “sweets”.

Dinner was quick, too, to accommodate the thousand-odd guests. Some people served cordial or even cooldrinks.
Afterwards, we’d go home and my mother would hand over her packet of pink and white cashews and those horrible sugared dhall sweets to whomever was best behaved.
And that was it.
As a little girl, I always imagined I’d have that kind of wedding, but as I grew up, I settled on a simple, pagan sort of affair with immediate family on a beach or island, or similar whimsical nuptials.
Instead, there will be a “conservative”, civilised, 400-guest event at a posh (complete rip-off) venue that has pulled the romance and heart out of a young couple’s most special day through our bank account.
We will have waiters and round tables, cutlery, glass crockery and separate soji bowls. Add elaborate and sufficiently shiny stage décor that is not gaudy, yet sparkly enough to impress.
There will be snacks, a sweetmeat display and pretty wedding favours, with obligatory souvenirs.
Obligatory souvenirs? Since when do the bride and groom, who’ve forked out enough to pay for at least four overseas holidays (yes, I’ve calculated it), have to give people gifts to attend their wedding?

The madness started a year ago. It was intended to be a fun, yet religiously significant event.
Eventually, a simple wedding — acceptable by 2008 standards — involved serviette holders that cost as much as my monthly petrol bill.
All in celebration of love and togetherness, and the hope of a few wedding gifts to add to our (thankfully already purchased and furnished) home.
I am ashamed to have succumbed.
Although it will be a lovely day with all the special people we want to be there, and even those we don’t, but are glad to see anyway, I am the punchline of the joke that Indian weddings have become.

I discovered this when I stumbled upon the cabal of wedding planners and periphery that exist today.
The most popular and talented photographers, cake suppliers, caterers, décor specialists, wedding co-ordinators, musicians, etc, each refers you to the other in the guise of a “favour”.
They have made this a thriving business. Yes, they do deserve to be popular and recognised, these are truly talented people.
But they’re a cabal nonetheless, and if you don’t have them, your guests will know the difference. Or will they?
The point is that we, as a society, have allowed this madness to become a norm. Be it a wedding, christening or funeral, we are losing the plot.
Why is it that society’s need to impress can invade even these momentous, once-in-a-lifetime occasions, making them more about the extras than the core of the event?
And in these harsh economic times, too. We are tired of living it, let alone hearing it, but the economy is at its worst in a long, long time.
People are selling bond-ridden houses, yet still deliver three-tier cake trays of Diwali treats?
December will be tough, too, but we know our guests will be raiding the stores for exquisite silks and satins. Many can afford them , but some cannot. Yet I can guarantee they will still come in all their finery.
They will arrive in their 60-month-repayment luxury cars and complain about the food, that we didn’t have a waterfall feature on stage and that we played carefully selected instrumental music, as opposed to a string band, which would play the same four songs for two hours anyway.
I don’t care.
I am celebrating my love and wedding day, and want only good wishes and blessings for a long and happy marriage.
Sorry if we decided to forgo the Lindor chocolate and went with the funny dhall sweets (they’re traditional for youngest sons apparently). I did it out of choice.
Hey, I could have sold a kidney and had a marching band and white horses ferry me to the venue. But the madness stops now.
We’re serving biryani, traditional wedding biryani, and dhall with brinjals. And if guests want to, they can eat with their fingers … and even enjoy the soji in the same dinner plate.










